


Where the Bad Kids Go

by InkStainsOnMyHands



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Horror, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Aunt Cass’ basement, tucked into the corner, hidden behind stale cardboard boxes and mildew infested knick-knacks, was a door. Aunt Cass warned them that the door led to a place “where the bad kids go”.</p><p>Hiro believed that was where he belonged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Bad Kids Go

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to creepypoisonedlover and gerfnsfw, who are fellow lovers of creepy things. Also, special shout out to writingfish, lebestiole, sazi-skylion, and smallhirodork for making me feel awesome about my writing even though I don't deserve it. You all are the best! Apologies if this isn't your cup of tea, guys, just wanted to throw good vibes out there, but if you aren't into horror, I completely understand!
> 
> As with a lot of my creepy stuff, this was inspired by thelittlefears videos "One in the Oven" and, of course, "Where the Bad Kids Go". Check those videos out if you're into that kind of thing!

In Aunt Cass’ basement, tucked into the corner, hidden behind stale cardboard boxes and mildew infested knick-knacks, was a door. Layers upon layers of dull-colored paint cracked and peeled in jagged angles on its surface, and the knob was rusted to the point where only the tiniest silver grains, peaking through the blood-red, remained of its original color. There was an inch thick space between the wood and cement floor, which allowed air to escape with a low, moaning sound, as though the very room was in pain. Aunt Cass warned them that the door led to a place “where the bad kids go”. 

Unlike the spooky tales parents used to threaten their kids with, Aunt Cass’ warning never came with a promise. It was just a matter of fact. The room was just where the bad kids go. 

Tadashi and Hiro never thought too much on it, electing to ignore its existence entirely rather than to dwell on the unsettling feeling they received whenever they were in its vicinity. As they grew, their apprehension waned, but never enough to allow them ease when they were in the basement. The hair on the back of their necks would rise and the need to run back up the stairs would forever be present, but at least they stopped having nightmares about wailing coming from the room. It turned into a secondary thought, easily forgotten. 

That was until Hiro turned thirteen and his hormones kickstarted the urge to explore the ever changing topography of his body. He began to think about the room more and more, especially after realizing that the object of his secret desires was his own brother. He was bad; he used his brother’s image to fuel his fantasies of being fucked into the mattress on all fours, while his domineering lover used his hair to press his head into the pillow, whispering the filthiest of things until they both came. He was a bad kid, and he deserved to go into the room. 

At times, in the middle of the night, with no recollection as to how he got there, he would stand in front of the door. Each time his hand would be outstretched closer and closer toward the knob. The night his fingertips were but a breath away from the oxidized metal, he decided to go out and run as far away from the room as he could. That was when he discovered bot fighting. 

Bot fighting made him bad, but he didn’t care. It distracted him from the worse “bad”, and it eased the tugging he felt at his chest. It was almost enough to make him forget. 

Then, Tadashi died in the fire. He didn’t deserve to die; he was good. If anything, it was Hiro who deserved that fate, and some of the anger and sorrow he felt was because of that injustice. His brother had never writhed in his bed at the thought of his sibling. His brother never went out in the middle of the night to indulge his wayward ways. His brother was the embodiment of everything angelic and godly in the world. The tugging at his chest grew stronger. 

Saving Abigail Callaghan did little to absolve him. He still ended up in the basement during the middle of the night. 

It was to be expected. Even as Tadashi’s charred remains lay cold and buried beneath the ground, Hiro still dreamt of grinding up on his lap as they exchanged wet, needy kisses, until he mewled and begged for his big brother’s cock. When he came, it was with the thought of his brother inside of him. Hiro began to awaken with his hand around the knob. 

One night, as he lay in his bed unable to sleep, a quiet acceptance worked its way into his bones. The tugging had become unbearable. He felt it everywhere, at school, during missions, in his room. It pulled incessantly at his rib cage, urging him to the room. He knew that there wasn't anyway to escape where the bad kids go, because that was where he belonged. No amount of good deeds could ever change that fact. 

Without forethought or hesitation, he made his way into the basement. His skin prickled and adrenaline pumped wildly through his body, urging him to run to safety. He ignored it. 

He reached the basement door, and although his arm was slow and halting, he took the doorknob into his shivering hand and twisted it. A squeaking, grinding noise echoed throughout the basement floor as the previously undisturbed metal protested against its under use. His heart pounded, a cold sweat broke through his skin, and he felt himself tremble, but he pulled the door open. 

\---

Hiro Hamada was reported missing on December 23rd. Three days later, during the police investigation, a heavily decomposed body was found in the small crawl space hidden in the basement of his home. The crumpled flesh was so featureless and indistinguishable that a preliminary visual identification could not be made. In it’s thin, swamp-colored fingers, they found an exceedingly wet thumbdrive. 

Despite the condition, cyber police enforcement had been able to recover a single video file off of the memory stick. A dark-haired young man, with almond-shaped eyes, wearing a black cardigan, red T-shirt and a baseball cap, was featured prominently in the video. He appeared to be sitting at a desk, directly in front of the device that recorded the video. It played like a confession. 

"My name is Tadashi Hamada. I'm twenty years old. Today is the day before the SFIT expo where my brother will present something that I am sure will change world." The man - Tadashi - paused, taking a deep breath. 

"He won't understand why I'm going to do this, but I want everyone to know that I am prepared to die to protect my brother.” Tadashi took another deep breath. He blinked rapidly, but the bright sheen over his reddening eyes refused to dissipate. He gulped before continuing. “Hiro, if you find this, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for being selfish and waiting until after your presentation. I just wanted to see you make something of yourself before I - before I’m gone. I never wanted to take your moment away from you. Just know that I did what I did to protect you, because I love you, more than I should.” 

Tadashi’s position in the chair changed unnaturally, as though part of the footage had been edited out. “If anyone else finds this, my body is in the basement.” Tadashi could then be seen reaching out of the camera’s view before the film ended. 

Out of concern for the public’s well being, the police never released the video tape, or the fact that the DNA of the victim did not match either of the presumably deceased Hamada brothers.


End file.
